Worlds that lay between
by Thylja
Summary: Altair is out on assigment when he stumbles upon something unexpected. Set before the game, please R&R.
1. Chapter 1 Work

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, the genious minds at Ubisoft do, thanks for bringing us such great characters, settings and stories.

* A/N: it's been a while, please be gentle. Hope you'll enjoy. I wont abandon this one, I promise. *

**Work**

From the way he sat on the bench, hands folded, the hood drawn deeply into his face, he could have been a mere scholar sitting amidst the ordinary people, studying their behavior. But despite his seemingly relaxed composure, that would have indicated someone who is really deep in thought, in this very moment he was everything but that.

His senses were fully fixated on a target just a stone throw away, an older man talking to a city guard. And although they talked under their breaths, their tense and uneasy body language betrayed their effort to make it look as if they were having an everyday conversation.

He could hear every word that was exchanged; see every wink, every tense quiver of either one of the talking parties.

He was the assassin, trained to kill, willing to give his life without a doubt for the cause, the brotherhood's cause.

He had overheard the two men talking for a while now; they had just said their farewells, now it was time for him to act. The man had talked about a secret parchment, highly confidential, that would lead him to his target: Conrad de Montferrat.

He would get it somewhere in the Noble District, just a little east of their current location and he had to so so without causing any commotion. The man had packed some stuff into a bag and left in the opposite direction of the guard. For a second he wondered what that was before returning his full focus on the old man. Like a cat, careful and silent, he followed him, seeking cover in the crowd, trying to blend in like a shadow. If anyone around here would recognize him or his face he was as good as dead.

Luckily for him the man he was chasing right now seemed totally oblivious to any possible threat. He wouldn't turn around or try to take some shortcuts through thickets or tiny spaces between houses, he went straight towards the point the guard had told him to go to. The meeting point. There were more people here, making it more difficult to blend in and keep track of the man at the same time. But he was a professional, had done this hundreds of times, pushing people aside very gently who came into his line of sight.

Then it happened: A slightly smaller figure seemed to accidentally bump into the man, but slipped the parchment into his pocket within mere seconds. He had a very well trained eye for people, was used to surveying this kind of actions, quickly, surrounded by many people pushing him into different directions and yet keep invisible to the common eye. But even he was surprised how quick and how well disguised this transaction took place.

The delivering party had disappeared within seconds and his target now tried to blend in with the crowd as well and get out of here. He still had a clear sight. Right now he was not sure whether or not he would need to kill and extort him or if he would just pickpocket the man, take the parchment and go. But his decision-making process quickly dissipated into thin air as a person in a wide, wallowing cloak appeared out of seemingly nowhere behind his target, followed him for a few seconds and then tried to disappear again. Although he was astounded, he knew exactly what went on here: His target had been pick-pocketed by an unknown third party before he even finished considering that.

On the inside he cursed but then quickly let go of his target and started to follow the figure in the cloak, which was way harder than he had first anticipated. The big cloak stood out of the masses, but the person wearing it knew his way around extremely well.

Also he had noticed his tail very quickly which made him wonder whether or not the person had recognized him and tried to disappear into a side street where he climbed onto the rooftop of the closest house very quickly. Could he be another assassin from the brotherhood? No, a brother would not have to hide from him even if he had a somewhat sensitive matter to take care of. It was pretty common that the other parties, the Saracens or even the Templars had spies, but he had never actually met one on one of his assignments himself.

For him following the figure was fun, he felt the thrill of the hunt, felt like an animal stalking its prey, trying hard not to let lust wash over him and cloud his mind. Over ledges and beams he followed the figure in the big cloak until luck decided to play for him. His opponent tripped and fell so the distance between them was gone within seconds and he pounced his prey like a tiger, ready to deliver the deadly blow. He landed in his opponents back and pushed him to the ground, both knees on the figure's arms, straddling him, holding down his neck with one hand he threatened:

"Your life means nothing to me! You will tell me what you know and then you will die!"

Something was wrong. Instead of an answer, the figure under him just coughed, which was fully intended by him. He would let him choke a little and give him a taste of death, before he would start asking any questions.

Although everything went the way he wanted it to, some alarm in the back of his head went off to warn him that something was wrong with this spy. He felt how the figure slowly relaxed under his tall and strong frame and a sigh escaped his lungs. It froze him.

* * *

I'm sorry, but I had to have that cliffhanger here.


	2. Chapter 2 Crush

A/N: Do I need to put a disclaimer at the beginning of each chapter? If so: everything belongs to Ubisoft, even the past ;).

Thaks to my first two reviewers! Sry the first chap was so short and vague, but I think this one'll get things rolling a bit more. Only a bit though ;).

**Crush**

Quickly he got off the hooded figure and in one fluid motion turning him over and drawing back the hood so he could see his face. But nothing had prepared him for this sight. The spy he knew something was wrong with him, but the sight in front of him made him stumble backwards.

It was a woman! The hooded spy that had tried to escape him like a master thief was a woman. And not just that, she was unlike every other woman he had ever seen in his entire life. He had seen paradise and all the exotic most beautiful women that were waiting there for him. But none of them, not one, looked as stunning to him as her.

The lightest blue eyes he'd ever seen shone from under a curtain of honey golden hair that had escaped from under the hood and now cascaded freely down her neck. If it weren't for the fear, the wild, animalistic fear that almost edged panic, he would have said that the small and pale, fragile seeming woman was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

"Let go of me, scum!"

Strangely her blunt words, stated without even a tremble in her voice opposed the panic that he saw clearly in her eyes, that haunted expression and came as unexpected as they could have been.  
A woman talking to him as if he were a beggar ogling a rich woman's garments from across the street was something fairly new to him. Looking like that she might have come here with the Crusaders or the likes of them, a noble young woman who was used to talking down to people ordering them around.

He had to make sure she wouldn't talk to him like this anymore. And quicker than he might have intended, he leaned over and slapped her face. Not too hard, but hard enough. Maybe any other woman would have shied away from the force of the blow but gotten up again, cried or cursed or yelled at him. But not her, the force of his blow had pushed her head back to the ground and down her delicate white cheek ran a little trickle of blood.

He would have expected to see hatred or something similar in her eyes, but none of that was to be found in those big blue globes of hers. Her eyes were crying rivers but she remained silent, simply looking back at him with a very blank expression.

Her breathing was quick and shallow; she almost shook with fear, trembling as if she were feverish with sweat gleaming on her forehead. He drew a little closer and tried to reach out for her to feel whether she was actually hot with fever or not.

Where that sudden notion of compassion came from he didn't know, much less could he explain why he reached out for her. But her reaction was that of a hunted, defeated, cornered animal that crawled backwards, desperately trying to get away from his touch.  
Strangely no matter how closely he tried to study her eyes there was no fear to be found there, and that little cocky voice in the back of his head told him that she should have been. After all he was a master assassin.

"I... "

He stopped himself from apologizing to her and telling her that he didn't mean to harm her in any way. But why should he? It was not him to do so or even consider doing so, he was a menace to society some might claim, but he wasn't without manners either.  
Especially around women he tended to act like a young novice boy, a child, insecure, overbearing and more than concerned to do everything right. But this one he didn't catch her to "fraternize" with her. He had caught her to kill her after she has given him then information he needed. But since that spy was the most intriguing woman he had ever come across, he felt helpless. The first time in his entire life he had lost focus on the mission and faltered visibly it seemed.

She had used his moment of hesitation to jump back on her feet standing in front of him now. She was not small, taller than the women around here but not as tall as him by a long shot. This was the perfect opportunity for her to run from him and he knew she knew that as well as him.  
The moment of hesitation passed without anything happening and then, with a trembling voice she stated:

"If I don't return to them with the parchment, they're going to kill me."

Her voice was low, silky, with a rich accent, but right now it was so small and shaken with fear that he couldn't do other than try to protect her.

"If you don't give the parchment to me you're going to die as well, but in a more timely manner."

His voice was as usual, low, a little coarse, threatening and extremely calm.  
It opposed his inside, he did not want her to go, and much less did he want her to stay so he would get the chance to question her and then Millions of thoughts ran rampant in his head but his outside just read stoicism and calm.

"What happens if I give you the parchment? Will you let me go?"

"No. But I might not kill you right away."

These last words did not have the effect he intended on her as her face turned to an even whiter shade of pale and the shaking became more violent causing her to hiccup and tremble.

"What . What are you going to do to me then?"

"I will take you captive. But if you tell me everything I want to know, no harm will come to you."

He noticed how her eyes turned from panicked, pupils dilated despite the bright daylight to a more relaxed state and became quite the inquisitive stare that was fixated on him. For a moment he wondered if she was more scared of what he would do to her to get what he wanted than of him killing her. What had she been going through?

Her whole composure seemed to relax, the shaking stopped and made him realize that that shaking little being in front of him and under the cloak was not just a beautiful young woman that had caught him off guard but that she was quite the alluring woman who really started to get to him more and more the longer he stayed around cloak that had ripped off when she tripped had hidden the athletic figure that, although it seemed hardened and sinewy, was still very womanly in all the right places.

He blushed for staring at her so blatantly, also noticing that it made her extremely uncomfortable again and the trembling had returned. But he couldn't help it and as she reached into her pocket for the parchment, his eyes were on her chest and his thoughts were on anything but the dry piece of parchment she handed him.

Assassin or not, he was just a man and as such a slave to his longings. But other than most men, he had learned to control those longings and return to a less excited state of mind.

As he reached for the parchment she offered to him, something happened though.

* * *

*her Point of View*

He took the parchment from my fingers very slowly, carefully and strangely graceful one might say. Not a second did he break the eye contact, I knew it more than I actually experienced or seen it since the hood of his white robe hid most of his face.

After all about a moment ago he was going to kill me, I know it, or do worse than that to me.

But what did I know of the people here? They were foreigners to me, strangers in a strange land so far away from home. How would I ever understand these people that were so different from everything and more importantly from everyone I knew? How would I understand this strange man?

I should know at least that he seemed to be after the same information as the Templar knights. Whether or not this was a good sign I was everything but sure he had threatened to kill me after all and judging from the way he spoke, with what sincerity he had declared that, I had no doubt he meant it. He didn't seem like someone who would kill out of lust or joy, there was something more professional about him. Was he one of those deadly angels the women talked about behind closed doors? A demon maybe?

But he must have been, no human being should be allowed to look right into the very core of me, the very essence of my existence.

* * *

*his Point of View*

Who had sent her to retrieve the parchment? Apparently she herself had no interest in it at all.

Either that or she was a skilled liar, he reminded himself.

Women of possibly noble breeding were usually good at lying, they knew how to keep their guards up at any time but especially when they were lying.

But her eyes, those big globes that drew him in like a maelstrom to never let him go again, they couldn't have lied. They spoke of a lot of things, deceit was not one of them.

He didn't realize how long he had been standing like this before he actually put the parchment into a hidden pocket in his robe. Her voice tore him out of this state and back to reality.

"What are you going to do to me now? They will surely come looking for me."

* * *

*her POV*

"Who are they?"

His low growling voice, so intense, so dark, so exciting captivated me. I couldn't help but shiver more than slightly from the sheer and utter masculinity that radiated him.

"They were knights; I believe they call themselves those who guard the temple."

The man sighed, they didn't seem to frighten him at all… unlike me… but he seemed to be the kind who could look out for himself quite well.

"I'll bring you to a place where you'll be safe for now. I will have to cover your eyes for that though."

I nodded.

He appeared to be a very careful character, someone who liked to keep things controlled, like the neatly folded blindfold he pulled out from under his tunic.

"Turn around."

I did as he told me to, I also closed my eyes, I didn't know why.

* * *

*his POV*

She was smaller than him and seemingly fragile, the muscles that had brought her up to this roof were not very well trained and malnutrition had gotten the better of her. At second look she seemed

as if she hadn't had a proper meal in weeks.

Her clothes were dirty but she still smelled as if they had been washed right before and lain to dry on a meadow full of well scented flowers. But the way she started to shiver and then flinched as he

reached around her neck, she seemed so full of fear. He realized what she was afraid of.

She wasn't afraid of him as a spy or even as an assassin, she was more afraid of him as a man and _because_ he was a man.

Obviously she had either never been with a man, never kissed a man, maybe even feared to be with one… or a man had done terrible things to her. He swallowed the lump of uncontrollable anger that

rose in his throat. Whoever had dared to hurt this one deserved to be punished for this. So the ways she feared he would harm her were not of a physical nature, bruises on her arms, older more or

less well healed wounds indicated that she had experienced pain.

But the way she shied away from his touch told him stories that whoever did this to her would probably

like to be forgotten forever. Not with him. He snorted which made her almost jump right out of her skin before he mumbled an apology and went back to tying the blindfold.

"Is something wrong?"

He shook his head before he remembered that she was now blindfolded and couldn't see the brief gesture.

"No."

* * *

*her POV*

I could barely describe how I felt when he put the blindfold on me.

First I instinctively backed away, his presence was definitely something that put me on edge and somehow scared me. I didn't know what to expect from him, I think that was the main factor in that

equation. But his touch was so careful and gentle, so precise and tender at the same time; I started to really enjoy being so close to him. He was warm, tall and broad, a lot of muscle seemed to be

hidden underneath those robes and he smelled absolutely amazing, so intense. Like sweat and blood, copper and sand, horse and herbs, like freedom and adventure, so very, very male…

Back home being so close to a man was something absolutely forbidden, something no lady of name and descent could allow herself. My parents… and much rather their personnel would freak out

about this if they knew… But then again if they knew about anything I had to do eversince I decided to come here and find my brothers.

My mind drifted off… what would they be doing right now? Were they looking for me? Were they even alive? My poor mother, all alone back home with my brothers' wives and the children…

His angry sounding snort caught me totally off guard and almost made me jump out of my skin. He hesitated, staying fairly close to me even after he was done tying the blindfold.

Was he looking out for possible attackers? No, his stance was too relaxed, too unguarded to be expecting or even suspecting a possible threat.

Did he… smell my hair?

I felt very ugly in this moment… why would such a handsome man as him show even the slightest interest in someone like me? I knew I wasn't ugly, but besides the fact that I was covered in dust, I

hadn't seen a bath or water... in a long time.

But realization struck me rather quickly, we were both standing on a rooftop, in plain sight, daydreaming.

So careful as not to anger him, he seemed to have quite a temper that was for sure, I asked whether or not everything was alright.

I felt how I had surprised him and the murmuring noise he made just underlined my suspicion.

"How will I follow you around on rooftops with a blindfold on?"

"Easy."

And before I could ask what he thought was easy about that, he had scooped me up and thrown me over his shoulder as if I were no weight at all.

One hand on my behind (which would have usually made me quite uncomfortable) he carried me like a sack of beans, as if I weighed nothing at all. Anyone else would have been slowed down with a

large object thrown over his shoulders, but not him.

Quick like a cat or a smooth and dexterous, agile predator he walked over the rooftops as if it were a mere street, climbed over barricades or chimneys and terraces. It was still everything but

comfortable and as soon as he slowed down and came to a halt I felt a great deal of relief, but it could have definitely gone worse.

I sighed in relief, expecting to be let down and finally relax, but apparently I was wrong.

"Hold on tight."

He shouted, but before I could find anything to hold on to, he started running and finally jumped.

In my entire life I would have been scared shitless, would have disappeared into a corner and thrown up, I wouldn't even dare to dream of anything like this happening and much less feeling so good.

Thousands of images were running through my head, all of them displaying especially cruel deaths. I wanted to scream, I don't know why since my mind was strangely relaxed, but before I could even

open my mouth he had flown and landed on safe ground again.

For half a second he stumbled but caught him- and myself quickly and continued our journey without even slowing down. At least now I was sure that a man like him would be able to protect me from

those bastard knights.

How dare they even call themselves that?

They served no king or pope, just themselves with the sole purpose to accumulate as much wealth as possible and no one cared who would have to suffer for that. Whoever this amazing and at the

same time strange man vowed his allegiance to, was hopefully their enemy too and would help me. Maybe he would turn out to be a savior, my knight in shining armor.

I certainly hoped so, wished so, begged to…

I had no other choice.

I had to give in to his strong lead right now… his strong arms that carried me with such ease. He stirred feelings in me that seemed so far away they almost felt new to me and others that were familiar

in a very unsettling kind of way.

How long was it that he carried me around like this?

I don't know, I just hoped that it would be over soon since I started to hurt all over and nausea settled in slowly but surely. His shoulders were broad, but to have them stinging into my abdomen was

a way to sickening feeling. As if my spine was pushing down on my poor stomach becoming more and more painful until everything I felt was a dull pain that made me want to throw up all over his nice

white cloak…

All of a sudden the pain ended and without warning, he pushed me and I fell.

* * *

Sorry for the POV- switches, I've written it like this quite a while ago to try out, I'll stick to her POV from here on out to avoid any further confusion.

Also I had a little bit of trouble with the formatting, take a little to get used to, no more from here on out, I hope. =)

Hope you'll stick around although things are developing rather slowly. I'll work on that, I promise.

Thanks in advance!


	3. Chapter 3 Thunder

First of all: I am so incredibly sorry, that I started writing and then abandoned this story! And I don't even know why, there's plenty more pages I simply have to upload!

Thanks a billion to all the lovely reviews! Hope you're still reading even after all this time and the new assassin in town bein Ezio and all... Either way, enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 3: Thunder

The wildest thoughts were starting to run through my head. How could I have been so stupid to trust a complete stranger who had threatened to kill me right before?  
But the thoughts were quickly forgotten as I landed on a well cushioned surface that took the force from my fall most of it at least since I landed fairly ungracefully on my butt. I knew the pain that shot up my spine as I landed, recognizing it from when I fell off my horse. It would hurt a while, but was nothing serious.

I slowly tried to get up, brushing my clothes "clean" and almost jumped out of my skin when he touched the blindfold and started to undo the knot. Thinking about it I really hadn't noticed him jumping after me.

Still blinking, trying to take control of my blurred vision I took a look around.  
We were in some kind of pavilion, cushions were laying on the floor, flowers made a rich and soothing atmosphere and a small fountain purled in the corner.

"Where am I?"

"It's a safe place. Those who will come looking for you wont find you here."

His voice was so calm, so controlled, almost neutral and was there an undertone of tenderness and care? And most of all he must have noticed me staring at him and met my eyes with the most amazing pair of hazel globes I'd ever seen.  
The thanks and the many questions I would have liked to ask him were forgotten. Everything else, my brothers, home, even that I just met him were forgotten.  
I was lost. If growing up means leaping from a steep cliff into unknown waters, the process being the stepping forward, he pushed me and pulled me down with him.

He was so close, so near I could feel his body heat, I even imagined that I could feel his heart and how its beating quickened. And then his lips were on mine, gently, tenderly but I could feel the thunderstorm that was behind all this. A thunderstorm that, once unleashed, would consume and erase everything else, leave nothing alive.

I didn't even know his name, and there was still the fact that he had been dead seriously threatening me. And none of it mattered as his soft lips burned, seared mine and he kissed me with such intensity that I felt like dying right there and then.  
But like all perfect moments, this one barely came to last for someone came rushing in and halted abruptly as he spotted us.

"Alta... what is this?"

The intruder was a man in his 40's, simple but well dressed, rather small compared to him but a nice man to look at altogether. His face read something between disbelief, surprise and a great deal of suspicion. He bowed lightly to greet the man at my side only to go back to eying me suspiciously as if I were a blade with his name on it.

"Hasef, always a pleasure to meet you. I have someone you need to look after for a while."

"I can see that."

And with that he turned around and left the room.

"Stay here, I'll settle this."

He flashed me something that vaguely reminded me of an apologetic scowl, but despite his obvious inability to express feelings otherwise the message was received.  
His face lightened up as I smiled and nodded before he went after Hasef.  
I sunk onto the cushions. The softest surface I'd lain on since I left home had been straw . Usually I wouldn't care about things like comfort or a relaxing atmosphere, but right now it was exactly what I needed. Through a window I could more see than hear the two men fighting. First only one of them was yelling, now both were. And although I couldn't hear what they were arguing about, it was pretty obvious that my presence that was the problem.

I tried to remember the last time anyone fought about me, or for me. I've had men fighting over me before but that was less about me, than about the amount of money I would bring into a marriage. There was only one only one that had been different. His parents already were rich beyond sanity. But he had been so amazing Despite everything his parents made him do, fencing, fighting with bow and arrow (which he was still really good at), his true passion was music. He would write songs for me and sing them, break my heart with every tone. A single tear crept down my cheek, as usual when I came to think of him. Strange that all this felt like a lifetime away now.

Fortunately the two men re-entered the room and tore me out of my dark thoughts. Hasef, who looked really small next to the tall muscular man next to him, spoke in a hesitant low voice:

"You may stay here. My brothers and me will be watching over you from now on."

He spoke slowly and very well considered, he seemed like the kind to pick up on that I sometimes had difficulties understanding what people were talking about around me. I had been rather quick at adopting the natives' language, I had to be, since no one understood what I was talking about when I tried it with English or French, especially in the countryside. I was far from understanding everything.

The hooded man turned around and was about to climb the wall to get back on the rooftop.

"Where are you going?"

I had to ask him, after all he, the complete stranger was about to leave me to yet another stranger that he had yelled at mere seconds ago. He turned back towards me and I think I felt that it wasn't exactly the easiest thing for him to leave me right now. Or at least I imagined so.  
Hasef slowly retreated.

"Hasef will take care of you from now on."

"And what about you?"

He looked at me for a long moment, his eyes piercing my soul, almost as if he were reading my thoughts like an open book.

"I have to find out more about the parchment. And why the Templars were trying to make you steal it."

"You don't trust me, am I not right?"

"I don't know you."

Undefyable logic.

"I don't even know your name. How would I know that Hasef wont kill me while I sleep?"

He broke eye contact for a moment and looked down at the floor.

"You wouldn't. But since you do not have any reason not to trust me either I suggest you merely do so. I doubt you have much of a choice either."

A slight undertone of arrogance had found its way into his voice. Dealing with complaining women did not seem like his favorite pasttime. Still. I was about to protest as he swiftly kissed me on the lips again. A small kiss, brief but yet so intense, it still burned on my lips as he climbed up the wall to the roof.  
Sitting on the ledge, looking down at me he said:

"Call me Altair",

Before he disappeared.

I smiled silently, he sure knew how to make an entrance or in this case an exit, wasn't he a master manipulator? And he played me like a puppet. Oh stupid, stupid me.

* * *

Thanks a lot for reading! Seriously.


	4. Chapter 4 Transition

A/N: I can't believe there's actually people still sticking with me and this story! Thank you so, so, so much Major Mike Powell III ! Here's the next chapter, as ordered! *stands at attention*

Personally I'm not that happy with this one, it's been a long time since I've written this, the next chapter will be better, I promise :D. Enjoy reading though!

**Transition**

Hasef had come back, his face unreadable but apparently he did not trust me, much less approved of me being here.

"I'll show you around, follow me."

And he showed me the house, their beautiful little house in the middle of Aleppo. Whatever organization or family stood behind this, there must have been a lot of money involved. For a moment I thought to myself, that maybe this time fate had put me in the right hands. Finally.

Hasef also showed me "my" room, well, the room where I would be staying for the time being. It was small, humble and simple. A bed was rather large with simple woollen sheets and a small table in the corner. Bright sunlight crept in through a small window. Needless to say it was perfect. The last bed I'd slept in must have been somewhere… I don't remember… maybe in France or Italy, but it seemed so long ago that it almost felt like another life.

Not talking much Hasef led me into the dining room where a maid had served tea and a light meal. He invited me to sit with him with a simple gesture.

"Please eat, you look hungry."

He was right, I'd lived off of leftovers, small rodents and pigeons for a long time now. The occasional fruit stolen from a tree or a booth in the market place rather being the exception. The prospect of something civilized, something that didn't smell like it had been lying in the sun for too long, was heavenly to say the least.

I must have looked like a pig stuffing myself with the deliciously sweet cake, wolfing it down as if nothing had ever tasted this good in my entire life. And indeed, nothing had.

My parents lived for the "joie de vivre", the art of life, if you want to call it that, good food, expensive wine, we had an amazing cook, French of course. For me it had been normal, nothing out of the ordinary, but those last years had taught me differently. Taught me what hunger actually meant, not the kind of hunger that comes between lunch and tea. No, the kind of hunger you get when you eat nothing for days, the kind of hunger that makes you crave food so much you can't think of anything else.

Seeing me eat like this seemed to warm Hasef up a whole lot. A smile spread over his face.

"I take it you haven't eaten in a while."

I barely looked up to answer, much less could I bring myself to stop chewing, even for the sake of answering him.

"It's been a while."

"And where do you come from? A girl with your complexion sure wasn't born under the dessert sun."

"England, way up north."

He nodded silently and took a sip of tea.

"Do you live alone… I mean in this house? There seems to be no one else here but you and the maid."

"Yes I do. I keep the house safe and in shape so it wont fall apart."

"Who owns it then?"

"The brotherhood."

Hasef paused and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"He didn't tell you anything, did he?"

He looked at me inquisitively. I just shook my head.

"Altair belongs to a brotherhood… a fairly ancient one at that."

"Are they like monks?"

I didn't know the right word, but Hasef seemed to understand it anyway.

"They're a different kind of … organization if you want to call it that. They take care of certain… political matters."

Somehow I got the feeling that I did not want to know what exactly it was they were doing. So I simply nodded.

"What are you doing here the if I may ask, so far from home, all by yourself."

"I… I'm trying to find my brothers. They came here to fight for the king… like everyone else. Then they disappeared. Now everything at home is going down and my mother can't handle everything by herself."

"And what about your father?"

"He died."

"I believe where you come from you need a man to take care of things, right?"

I nodded, sadly.

"Yes… Our neighbour, a duke, has offered to marry her so she wont lose our home, everything we own. But he's a foul man. My brothers must return home to preserve our… everything… our lives."

Hasef furrowed a brow at me, a glint of sympathy in his eyes.

"What makes you think your brothers aren't dead?"

I glared at him for a moment. Back home a question like this was regarded bold… blunt… rude. But considering the circumstances it was his good right to ask. And he was right , although I was too scared to think of the ramifications if they were indeed dead.

"I would have known."

He looked concerned, not without sympathy and I was glad he decided not to pry any further.

"And how do you hope to find them?"

I know he meanot no harm and it was in his best interest to ask as many questions as he did. But after all that time out alone by myself I couldn't help but feel incomfortable with his questions.

"Are you interrogating me?"

"That depends on what you think my intentions are. Would I like to find out more about you, because you are a stranger, a woman no less? Brought to me by the last person I would have thought capable of showing such compassion? Then the answer is yes. If I think I could help you in case your brothers are possibly held captive somewhere in Aleppo, then the answer would have to be yes as well. It would also be a yes if I would like to know in what way you are connected to the men who made you steal that parchment."

Hasef stared at me intently, but without any sign of hostility, if anyone would be able to find out if my brothers were still alive or anywhere here… then him. Whether it was his face or his demeanour, I trusted him. And I trusted in his ability and more importantly, his will to help me.

"I would be eternally grateful if you could help me find them. If there is anything I can do to take part in that then I implore you to let me know."

"Right now you would help everyone the most if you rest and regain your strength."

He looked at my shaking hand as I was pouring tea from the can.

"But I would…"

"If they are who we suspect they are, they will come looking for you. We're going to have to hide you. In those rags, looking the way you do, they'll find you sooner than a wolf in a flock of sheep."

Even if the rags wouldn't draw as much attention, my light complexion and fair hair would do the rest. Back home it was nothing out of the ordinary, but down here it meant nothing but trouble. So much I'd learned.

"Again, thank you so much. Hasef, I have not an idea how to show my appreciation of your hospitality and generosity. I was lost before Altair found me."

His face got rather blank and his smile slowly faded.

"You're probably less surprised about that than me."

"I don't think I understand."

"He's someone who… goes best on his own."

I simply nodded.

"Where… where did he go?"

A simple shaking of his head said more than any words could.

"I cannot tell you."

"Can you tell me when he will be back then?"

"A day, maybe two. I doubt that he'll be long. He's quick, efficient and restless."

"Efficient?"

"He will be back very soon. That is all you need to know. Whether he will be bringing good news or not, I do not know."

Although his words were rather cryptic I decided not to ask any more. I couldn't quite understand how him returning would be bad news at all, I felt very comfortable and protected when he was around. And that other thing… that made my stomach turn upside down and my heart beat faster by merely thinking of him.

Hasef must have guessed my thoughts and frowned, apparently Altair and me exchanging affections was rather unsettling to him. I dared not to ask why, I would probably either find out soon enough or it was something I did not need or want to know.

"The maid will help you out, there's a tablet on the sideboard in case you need anything. You will have to write… Can you write our language?"

"No."

"Well that makes things more difficult. The maid is deaf. She can talk but does not hear a thing. I'll take care of you myself then and make sure you have everything you need."

"Thank you."

I couldn't really tell or express just how grateful I was, talking in a foreign language and having thanked him about a hundred times already. I just hoped that he understood.

* * *

Thanks a lot for reading, leave a word on the way out?


	5. Chapter 5 3 AM

A/N: Here's the next chapter, getting a little steamier ;), hope you'll enjoy!

**3 AM**

The next two days were pure bliss to me. Sleeping in an actual bed, eating more than decent food, being able to wash myself and even getting dressed in used but intact clothes, all that was pure bliss and more than precious to me right now.

Of course I would never lose focus on why I came here, but for a moment I allowed myself to rest and feel at peace, like I could regain my strength and go about anywhere from here. And even the nightmares, that still haunted me, were better than not sleeping because I was too wound up, uncomfortable or scared to close my eyes.

I was counting the hours until he would come back. Trying to spend my time doing something useful rather than sleeping, eating or looking at myself in the mirror, I tried to help out as much as I could… or as much as Hasef would let me do. Also there didn't appear to be that much to do at all around the house, probably due to the maid who was most likely doing everything before I even got out of bed.

Hasef took care of me as if I were an egg with a broken shell, I don't think even a princess was tended to that much and that well. He left nothing to be desired, spent as much time with me as his everyday work would allow him. He taught me to write a few simple things to the maid, even to read a little.

I simply didn't know how to handle all that. I mean, I had once been used to getting everything I wanted and more, but never in my life had I dreamt about doing that for a complete stranger. I had already told Hasef that it was too much, that he should stop and that I could never repay him for all he did for me, but to no avail. Maybe he was simply glad to be able to spoil a woman, since there didn't appear to be any other woman in his life.

Anyway, but even all that couldn't distract me enough not to run around in circles waiting for him, stealing glances out the window when I sat with Hasef, or traveling to the garden where he first brought me in whenever I came even remotely close to it.

Hasef had said that he wouldn't be gone for more than two days… those had passed by now, it was the evening of the second day and we were once more sitting together over dinner.

He was an interesting man, intelligent and full of humor that made it amazingly easy to listen to him dwell in stories of his troubled past. And there were many stories, I loved them, especially the ones that had Altair appear in them somehow, as an adept, as a child. We were laughing, drinking and talking more like old friends than two strangers that originated from two corners of the world. Our people were at war, mine were trying to regain what they believed (or were told) was theirs, his people fought for their lives. There was never an argument about that, it simply didn't matter and made our spending time together so very easy.

"… and despite everything he had been told, that proud young man stole the horse and took off."

We were both laughing, but Hasef must have caught yet another one of my glances at the garden where Altair used to drop in. The later it got, the more restless had I become.

"He'll come, don't worry."

There was that shallow smile again. I really was everything but sure if I wanted to know, why the prospect of Altair and a woman freaked him out that much.

"I will retreat now. I will see you in the morning."

"Absolutely."

I hoped, wished, prayed that Altair would come tonight, that he'd be there in the morning, and despite my wildly thudding heart I fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow.

In the middle of the night I woke up with a strange feeling. I knew I wasn't alone, a tall figure lay behind me on my bed, two big arms holding me tight. Him. My heart must have been thudding so loudly it woke him up.

For a moment his grip tightened before he relaxed and buried his nose in my hair. He was sure about to fall asleep again but me turning in his arms so we were face to face startled him enough to stay awake.

"Hello."

I whispered… sounding a lot more like a little girl than I had anticipated.

A lazy smile was the answer to that.

"I missed you."

The answer to that was a bit different, he scooted closer and gave me a passionate kiss on my lips, burning like wildfire, urgent like someone who'd been waiting for too long. It was so different from our first kiss, no less intense, no less burning my sense of reason away. But all hesitation, all insecurity was gone. Maybe it was the circumstances that were different, we were in a bed, both in a rather undressed state of being and I was more than noticing how well built he was.

In the back of my mind I knew that I shouldn't enjoy this as much as I did. After all we were strangers, barely exchanged more than a few words...

This was the kind of kiss that would lead to only one thing.

I pulled away from him, feeling very small in his arms right now.

"Please don't."

But there was no stopping him right now; he pushed me on my back and continued kissing me. A hand had found its way under my nightgown, wandering over my thigh, my hip, my stomach to my chest.

It felt so amazing.

He sure knew how to render a woman senseless by merely kissing and touching her the way he was. The way he touched me was so dear, yet so urgent, as if he were seeking solace, desperately absorbing all the warmth I could possibly give to him, burying his fears by burying himself inside of me. It was as if his passion, his burning desire was consuming me entirely.

Nothing would change about my fears, my hesitation, my inability to fully enjoy what he was doing. It wasn't right, not now.

So I squirmed and tried to wriggle my way out from under him, but he held me down in a tight grip. Not violent, just desperate and needy. He was an animal right now, the lion that had stalked its prey to consume it. Risking to let it go now could mean his death of starvation and that was what it felt like with him.

My body was more than reactive and betrayed every single notion in my head, kissing him back, arching into his touch. Yet my mind screamed, fighting over control of the body, trying to get away from the sensations.

"Please! Stop!"

I felt my mouth form those words, not without effort, trying to sound sincere and loud enough to actually make him follow through. But what came out sounded a lot like the opposite of what I meant. It was hoarse, husky, heated… not convincing at all, not even to me. Finally I managed to yell at him.

"Altair stop! This is wrong!"

And to my biggest surprise it actually seemed to be successful, for he stopped and looked me in the eye. Stopped being a somewhat relative therm, since his hand was still on my breast, making it a little harder to concentrate. The little that I could see in the silvery gleam of moonlight that shone through the tiny window broke my heart.

His eyes were so… different from ever before.

Where before I hadn't seen any other than the confident, almost cocky, extremely intense glare, what struck me now was the complete opposite.

A pleading look, revealing the innermost feelings of this genuine, mysterious man. They say the eyes were the windows to your soul… and in the silver light of the sky I could see his if even for the briefest, most fleeting of moments.

A scarred soul, seeking closure, solace after a horrible day, seeking forgiveness to forget the horror of the outside world. He needed me right now, more than physically. His eyes confirmed that doing it right now would be wrong. It would not be out of love or anything like that; it would be an escape, a few minutes of bliss to make up for the past days, weeks, even years.

There were no words needed, I just kissed him again, lightly, gently, sweetly. He understood and soon we were lying closely again, both quickly drifting off to sleep.

* * *

Thanks a lot for reading and again, leave a word on the way out?


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